


Not As It Seems Part VI

by eliniel



Series: Emet-Selch/WoL [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cooking, F/M, conjuring does not make for good food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 21:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19912441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliniel/pseuds/eliniel
Summary: The Warrior of Light come back to her room one night to find that Emet-Selch had conjured dinner for them. Unbeknownst to him, conjuring does not make for good food, and so the Warrior of Light takes it upon herself to show him what good food looks like.





	Not As It Seems Part VI

I dragged my feet back to the Pendants after a long day of travelling about the area, covering my mouth as I yawned wide. All I wanted was a bath, a bed- and maybe even a little bit of Ascian as well. 

I started unbuckling the leather utility belt around my waist with one hand while the other turned the doorknob to my room. Instantly, I felt something was different.

When I walked in, I did not immediately notice anything out of the ordinary, but as I took a few more steps, I saw my dining table was covered in food. I tilted my head to the side.

What a fortuitous night, I supposed, as I had refrained from picking up a meal, as I usually did, on my way back to my room at the end of the day. But...who-?

I approached it cautiously, reaching for the rapier hanging in its sheath from my belt. Surely, this was good will and not an attempt on my life, right? I wasn’t certain. 

I heard a noise coming from behind the closed door of my bathing room. I slid my hand into the swirling hilt of my sword, heart beating wildly, ready to confront whoever had barged into my room, unbid-

Until the door swung open, revealing Emet-Selch, clad in naught but a pair of loose pants, drying his sodden hair with a towel. He looked at my face, then down to my hand and raised an eyebrow, a smirk tilting his lips upward.

“Come to kill me, have you, my dear hero?”

My shoulders slumped, hand wrapped around my rapier relaxing. I gave him a frustrated sigh and rolled my eyes.

“Not today, Ascian.” I heard him breathe a haughty laugh as I made my way over to my bed, kicking my boots into a corner as I went.

I laid my belt across the quilt and started slipping out of my heavy jacket. Once I’d gotten it off, I felt hands wrap around my waist. He pressed his chest into my back, dipping his head to leave a small trail of feather-light kisses along my bare shoulder. 

I smiled and leaned into him, reveling in the feeling of his skin, still warm from his recent bath. 

He rested his chin in the crook of my neck and I tilted my cheek against his temple. 

“Come eat,” he instructed, then started sliding away from me, leaving the entirety of my backside cold. He caught my hand on his way, spinning me and making me follow. I swept my eyes over the table. 

“Did you make it?” He shrugged.

“In a sense.” I crossed my arms in front of me and leaned heavily on one leg, trying to hold back a laugh.

“You conjured it?” 

“Oh, don’t sound so patronizing, hero.”

“You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

He looked absolutely astounded that I would suggest such a thing. Gods, him and his theatrics would be the death of me one day, if this food wasn’t. My chest shook and I tried my best to keep my face neutral- but I knew it wasn’t working. 

“Me?” he scoffed. “ I mayhap thought you would be hungry.” Another shrug, although more dramatic. 

I couldn’t believe that this man- this immortal being- had deigned to offer me food. Whether it was good or not- well, that was still to be decided. I shook my head but went to the table as he’d requested. 

The food was still hot- magic, no doubt, considering he’d had time to bathe after setting the table. He sat at the head, watching me, so I did not disappoint. I started reaching for food, putting small amounts of different things onto my plate. 

When I was finished, I lifted a fork-full into my mouth and paused. 

The snarky smile that he oh-so-hated to see on my face snuck out. I swallowed and set my fork down.

“What is it?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the table. Surely an ex-emporer should have more manners than that?

“Have-have you tasted this food?”

“No,” he answered. “I had a thought to wait for you-” 

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. A laugh jumped up my throat, causing him to pause mid-sentence. 

His face fell and my humor went with it. I did feel horribly bad- I hadn’t meant to laugh in his face. I leaned over to take his hand, but he sat back in his chair, just out of my reach. He was-he was pouting. 

I stood and held my hand out to him. 

“Come on. Conjure me a stove. I’ll show you.”

He stared up at me for a few long seconds, his jaw ticking. Finally, he heaved a sigh and lifted his hand. 

_Click._

A kitchen set appeared in the empty space between my bed and table, stocked with different ingredients. He avoided my hand, but stood nonetheless and followed as I made my way over to it.. A small apron hung on a hook on the side of one of the cabinets. I lifted it and slipped in on, tying it in the back.

“Food takes more than just a thought,” I explained with a smile, eyes surveying everything he’d just willed into being. 

“Okay,” he said, slowly. “I didn’t know you could cook.” 

“I had to,” I said, looking down, sliding my hand down the length of the counter. “I have been alone for many years.” When he didn’t respond, I changed the subject and continued in my instruction. “In order to make _good_ food, you have to do it yourself. What do you like to eat?”

Emet-Selch seemed stumped. He opened his mouth to say something, but promptly closed it again. I tilted my head to the side, one eyebrow raised, waiting.

“I recall enjoying spicy foods.” I huffed a laugh.

“Of course you would.” I plucked a clove of garlic out of a bowl, thinking about what recipe I wanted to use. “No matter. I like hot foods too.”

Over the next half hour, I showed him how I prepared my food. Boiling water for noodles, sauteing garlic and dragon peppers in olive oil. I set him to work chopping a bunch of parsley for seasoning. 

When he was finished, he wiped his hands on a dish towel and made his way over to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his stubborn attitude and my own unkindness seemingly forgotten. He watched over my shoulder as I pushed the sizzling vegetables around in the pan with a wooden spoon.

A _pop_ of oil caused me to jump back against him. It surprised him, too, and he stumbled, his grip on me tightening as he tried to steady the both of us.

“I don’t know about this cooking business,” he joked with a chuckle. I rubbed my cheek where the searing drop had burned me. “Seems quite dangerous.”

I shook my head, but smiled and pulled myself away from him to empty the boiling water from the pot of noodles. 

“Get me two plates and forks,” I ordered him. He didn’t argue and did as he was bid, placing on the counter space next to the stove. I mixed everything together and served it. He snapped his fingers again and the food left over on the table disappeared. 

I nodded my head towards his seat and he took it without complaints. I set a plate down in front of him. 

“Peperoncino.”

I sat down with my own plate and waited as he swirled his fork into the noodles and took a bite. He paused and looked at me. I smiled. 

“See? Sometimes you just have to do things the _old-fashioned way_.”

When he was finished, he sat against the back of the chair, waiting for me. 

“We’ll do this again, hero,” he announced. I breathed a laugh.

“Anything you desire, Ascian.”


End file.
